After Breaking Up, I Married A Top Alpha Movie Star And Fell In Love - Chapter 11

At ten thousand meters in the air, the sunlight outside the porthole was dazzling.

Qiu Ye was temporarily acting as an assistant to accompany Lu Mingchuan to the Drama Festival.

The two of them used the VIP channel, and since the invitation list had not been made public, their journey was smooth and unobstructed.

After the plane landed in Yunchuan, Qiu Ye was just about to go pick up the checked luggage when Lu Mingchuan patted him on the shoulder from behind.

“Qiu Ye, the luggage is over there.”

Qiu Ye, who had just memorized the signs but still walked in the wrong direction, pursed his lips in embarrassment and pulled his baseball cap even lower.

“Qiu Ye?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I know why you always look at the navigation when you’re driving now.”

Lu Mingchuan’s tone carried a gentle hint of a smile, like the satisfaction of having a curiosity confirmed.

Qiu Ye smiled. He had possessed a weak sense of direction since childhood and had suffered no small amount of distress because of it.

He comforted himself with the thought that everyone must have some flaws.

Wearing a mask and a hat, Lu Mingchuan took the lead in pulling several suitcases off the carousel.

Remembering that his role for this trip was Lu Mingchuan’s assistant, Qiu Ye reached out to take the luggage, only to be lightly brushed off.

Lu Mingchuan hung the black-and-silver Hermès bag from his shoulder onto the handle of one of the suitcases and continued walking forward, pushing three bags.

“Give me two of them.” Qiu Ye walked beside Lu Mingchuan, feeling a sense of misplaced identity and a bit of bashfulness.

He suddenly thought back to the rumors the other man had mentioned about bullying assistants; looking at the Lu Mingchuan beside him who was taking on all the heavy lifting, he felt that the rumors were indeed untrustworthy.

Lu Mingchuan wasn’t wearing sunglasses, and those glazed gray eyes stared at Qiu Ye with a smile. “You didn’t actually start believing you’re an assistant, did you?”

Qiu Ye remembered the pleading look Ji Bing had thrown his way last night, and remembered Lu Mingchuan standing resolutely in front of him, saying, “Don’t get any ideas about him.”

“Anyway, I’ve resigned and have nothing to do. Just consider it a change of pace.”

Qiu Ye always seemed to have a good temper, never refusing the requests of others.

But only he knew that it wasn’t always like that.

Before they set off, Lu Mingchuan had told Qiu Ye several times not to force himself, hoping to glimpse the other’s true thoughts.

“If you truly want to accompany me, I would of course be very happy. Just don’t listen to Ji Bing; I won’t treat you as an assistant either.”

“Just think of it as going out to play. Okay?”

He remembered Lu Mingchuan saying it that way.

Yunchuan was at a high latitude; it was already approaching early winter, and it was much colder than Hong Island.

Qiu Ye wore a mask and exhaled slowly; his glasses were immediately filled with white mist.

They went to the hotel first to take a short rest. The opening ceremony of the Drama Festival was only a few hours away.

Lu Mingchuan had an appointment with An Yilun for styling.

Qiu Ye took off his hat and mask and sat in the dressing room, finally free from the worry of someone taking his picture.

When the great stylist An discovered that the fully-armed assistant was actually Qiu Ye, he started teasing the two of them.

“Being newlyweds is quite something, huh? You even have to bring him along to work. So clingy~”

Lu Mingchuan closed his eyes, letting the angled contour brush in An Yilun’s hand sweep across the sides of his nose, and retorted, “Not as clingy as your little husband.”

Sitting to the side, Qiu Ye said in surprise, “Teacher An is married?”

An Yilun was truly fed up with Lu Mingchuan. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he threatened, “I haven’t gone public yet. If you let it slip, I’ll turn you into a complete eyesore with this makeup.”

Qiu Ye thought about it and felt that making Lu Mingchuan look ugly would be quite a difficult task.

“He’s busy preparing for a race and doesn’t have the time to mind me.” When An Yilun spoke of “him,” his lips puckered slightly as if he were blushing.

Just as he finished speaking, a video call from Xin Ye popped up.

Seeing that everyone around was an acquaintance, An Yilun answered the Alpha’s call.

The screen shook violently for a moment as Xin Ye suctioned the phone to a railing and took a few steps back.

Behind Xin Ye was a winding, twisting race track. Wearing a red-and-black racing suit, he waved to the camera.

“Brother Yilun, did you miss me?” The buzz-cut man looked to be only in his early twenties, exuding a vigorous vitality. He was a full ten years younger than his Omega.

As soon as Lu Mingchuan left the dressing room, he was caught by the accompanying media and photographed for quite a while. Beside him, Qiu Ye checked the time from time to time.

The opening ceremony was held at a Qing Dynasty opera stage heritage site in Yunchuan. Most of the invited guests were familiar faces from television and film.

As the melodious music rose and the host stepped slowly onto the stage, a burst of surprised low whispers echoed through the venue.

It was actually the former pillar of Mingzhu Station, Zhou You. He had recently retired, but his refined demeanor remained, and his beautiful voice instantly captured the attention of the entire audience.

“They said Teacher Zhou retired because his voice was ruined. To me, it looks like the infighting at the top was too intense and he didn’t want to be a sacrificial lamb, so he retired early.”

Qiu Ye had a staff pass hanging around his neck and sat on the left wing, near the media area.

If he wasn’t careful, gossip would find its way into his ears.

“Did you know? That time Weibo crashed, the video that ‘First Week Gossip’ originally intended to release was unblurred.”

Hearing someone nearby talk about that incident, Qiu Ye’s heart suddenly jumped into his throat. Feeling guilty, he reached out to adjust his mask.

“I really want to see what kind of stunning beauty of an Omega could take down Lu Mingchuan.”

Qiu Ye pursed his lips, thinking to himself that he was neither an Omega nor a stunning beauty.

He was afraid they would be disappointed.

“Hey, which media outlet are you with?”

Qiu Ye was suddenly poked in the arm by a person with a round face sitting next to him. He made an excuse that he was a reporter from Huanhe Media to muddle through.

On stage, Zhou You smiled as he announced the next segment.

“Next, we invite the representative of outstanding young actors—Mr. Lu Mingchuan—to the stage to share his understanding of performance.”

For the first time, Qiu Ye felt he was incompetent at his job; he didn’t even know Lu Mingchuan was supposed to give a speech on stage.

Had he known earlier, he should have let the man rehearse once in the dressing room.

Lu Mingchuan walked steadily to the center of the stage, adjusted the standing microphone to a suitable height, and let his gaze sweep lightly over the audience.

“The charm of drama is not in playing a perfect symbol, nor in recounting a dramatic plot.”

“An actor must interpret the life of a person of flesh and blood, expressing their love and hate, their humility and greatness.”

His words were neither fast nor slow, every syllable clear and discernible.

“What we can do is crawl into another soul and live for them once, and then present the traces of that life sincerely to our audience friends.”

Sitting in the shadows a bit further from the stage, Qiu Ye looked up at the person speaking. His heart felt as though it had been lightly bumped by something.

He followed the people around him in clapping, his dry palms becoming slightly hot from the applause.

The follow-spot fell on Lu Mingchuan, outlining a sharp and clean silhouette before quickly vanishing.

Qiu Ye discovered something in Lu Mingchuan that was different from others; aside from the superficial starlight, there was a steady, pure idealism.

Such radiance illuminated the hollow spaces in Qiu Ye’s heart, making him wonder what kind of life he truly wanted.

After the ceremony ended, Qiu Ye went to find Lu Mingchuan and happened to see a well-known variety show director in the industry speaking to someone.

“Actually, I think this is a very good opportunity for both you and that gentleman.”

“I know you almost never go on variety shows, but we are truly not sacrificing the privacy of artists to gain traffic.”

Director Lai stroked his large beard and continued, “I’ve talked with Ji Bing, and she also agrees with the core of the program.”

Lu Mingchuan saw Qiu Ye about to walk over. He gave a slight nod to the director and said in a low voice, “Apologies, we do not intend to go on a marriage variety show.”

By the time Qiu Ye arrived, he only vaguely heard the words “variety show.”

Director Lai felt it was a pity. Turning around, he saw the masked and hatted Qiu Ye and muttered, “How did Xiao Bei get so thin?”

After the opening ceremony ended, there were continuous performances in the large and small theaters of Yunchuan. In addition to stage plays and dance dramas, there were also traditional operas and acrobatics.

Qiu Ye went to see a few plays he was interested in. When he encountered things that were somewhat obscure or difficult to understand, Lu Mingchuan was there beside him to explain.

“The way the light suddenly focused on the audience and then quickly retracted just now wasn’t a mistake.” Lu Mingchuan leaned in slightly, keeping his voice as low as possible.

A burst of numbing electric current was stirred in Qiu Ye’s ear, and he struggled to focus on the performance.

“It’s meant to pull us into the protagonist’s predicament. From this moment on, neither you nor I are bystanders anymore.”

When the two of them came out of the theater, they happened to run into the Yunchuan Fish Lantern Parade held every fifteenth of the month.

Enormous fish lanterns suddenly lit up, tearing arcs of warm yellow light into the pitch-black night.

The narrow alleys were instantly crowded with people, accompanied by the sounds of gongs and drums. One by one, the fish lanterns swayed their heads and tails, looking exactly like they were swimming through the empty air.

Lu Mingchuan took his hand and followed the crowd forward.

“Don’t get separated by the crowd.”

Fireworks exploded at the perfect moment, rain-showers of gold and red light falling continuously, reflecting the river of lanterns on the ground.

It was as if heaven and earth were inverted, and the Milky Way was pouring down.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful.”

Immersed in the boiling sea of light, Qiu Ye subconsciously raised his phone to capture the scenery before him.

The Live Photo recorded the swaying light-trails of the fish lanterns and the moment the fireworks bloomed.

Another firework burst open with a bang, silver light falling like rain, outlining Qiu Ye’s focused profile.

He looked up at the brilliant sky, his eyes reflecting the shifting colors.

Lu Mingchuan raised his hand to shield him from the crowded throngs. He didn’t look up; his gaze rested quietly on Qiu Ye’s shimmering eyes, watching the reflected fireworks.

“Qiu Ye, is it fun?”

“Yes.”

Qiu Ye nodded vigorously, the corners of his lips lifting in a defenseless, bright, and innocent smile.

The surrounding noise rose and fell, and the roar of fireworks sounded from time to time, yet it still struggled to mask Lu Mingchuan’s out-of-control heartbeat.

Thump. Thump.

As the night grew deeper, only the sound of their side-by-side footsteps remained on the bluestone road.

“In a few days, I’m going to Tang City to film.” Lu Mingchuan’s voice sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet alley. “It’s a Republic-era drama by an old friend. I owe him a favor, so I’m going to do a two-episode cameo.”

Qiu Ye listened quietly and asked, “Then, do you need me to go with you?”

Lu Mingchuan paused, then looked up at Qiu Ye. “Xiao Bei has already been discharged from the hospital.”

Qiu Ye gave a soft “oh,” looking down and regretting his earlier initiative.

“If you want to go, I’ll just mention it to the crew.”

Previously, Qiu Ye had only been in contact with early-stage TV planning and market assessments; he knew nothing about an actual filming set.

How those storyboards and settings written on paper eventually turned into vivid frames of film.

“I’m actually quite curious.”

Qiu Ye wasn’t just curious about the set; he was even more curious about what Lu Mingchuan looked like in front of the camera.

Before sleeping, Qiu Ye opened WeChat, wanting to tell Lu Mingchuan that if it was a hassle, then forget it.

He saw the top-pinned chats he had set before. With a tap of his finger, he decisively unpinned He Yuchen.

A message from Lu Mingchuan popped up.

“Qiu Ye, I am the one troubling you.”

“The elders in my family know I’m married. They want to meet you.”

The Moments interface refreshed. The latest post was the one Qiu Ye had just sent of the fish lanterns and fireworks, without any accompanying text.